Finally, I arrived at Fatrat's spot. Hopelessness simmered off the abandoned broken down apts. Glass in the windows are cracked or gone and replaced by plywood. Parking my truck in front of his apartment I got out and walked toward the door. The walking zombies who were once productive citizens were out in full blast with their eyes spinning with schemes to get money for their next hit. They were simply crackheads at the lowest on the food chain in H-town worse then prostitutes and almost as bad as snitches. People talk about heaven and hell but in their world hell was all they knew and heaven was just another word that has no meaning. I waded through the grimy crowd as the smell of stale piss, sex and alcohol rushed at me. I maneuvered …show more content…
"Damn! I drove all this way for nothing." I said under my breath and turned to walk away. Mrs. Pepper grabbed me by my arm; stopping me in my tracks. Her face filled with emotion that I could not decipher. "Walker, I know you and I know a lot about you and I recognize your struggle but the streets ain't a place for a man like you, so don't let it take you under like it done swallowed me." There was no line in her words, body language or voice. I filled Steph in damn, as if my head were being flooded with hot lava. I heard what she was saying but I wasn't trying to listen, because my thoughts were completely emotionless as I blissful in my ignorance. I was getting antsy and now the drug was calling me. Running to my demons have become the order of the day only distantly aware of just how little normalcy life had become. reluctantly excepted that my chase for the drug was over. Mouthpiece, LoonyToon and Kung-Fu we're all out of crack the street were cold and the blacks were dry and empty. So, I decide to get a bottle and bathe in a river of cold sin. Coming out of the liquor store with a bottle of Hennessy black, a cognac buzz is the smoothest thing in the world even the hangover of it is like being squeezed velvet vice from a thought that managed to float its way to the top of my brain. Outside stood a homeless woman begging for change. Other people coming out of the store past the woman back, but I …show more content…
Just keep crying out to Him because that is what it's going to take to keep you from ruining your life. Young man you're walking in a tunnel with no light inside; miles and miles of darkness, but when God steps out of the shadows with a candle in his hand and His promise to lead you out to safety, all you have to do is follow." She yelled. The woman's voice burned my ears as I started to drive off, hearing her loud and clear through the truck window. I drag my hand down over my face as the old woman's words kept ringing in my head while I drove home "the Lord really loves you" I kept hearing. God was talking to me but my ears were closed, my chest rose and fell as I took a deep breath, damn I wish Fat Rat would answer his fucking phone, I wasn't trying to sign up for a sermon; just trying to blast off to the skies above as the streets however had a receipt for my soul. I must have stayed up till two in the morning running on no sleep punishing the bottle of Hennessy black. Downing my glass in frustration and refilling it with the gratitude of a full bottle, good Cognac smoothing out after the third or fourth swallow, the night moved along but I did not tire. I was now in a big cloud of intoxication when
Throughout David Sheff’s book, he incorporates detailed diction in describing his environment, past, and the people around him as to allow the reader to be able to imagine what he had seen during this course of his life. As the father of a drug addict, Sheff had also had his own experience with drugs, in which he describes this experience with words and phrases such as “I heard cacophonous music like a calliope”, “[The brain’s neurotransmitters flood with dopamine], which spray like bullets from a gangster’s gun” and “I felt
Tom and Benny Imura live in a post-apocalyptic world where zombies have taken over most of the land and the remaining human survivors stay locked behind tall walls or fences. Benny is about to turn 15, and in the survivor town of Mountainside, that means he must get a job or he would lose half his rations. His older brother Tom wants him to join the family business. Tom is a renowned zombie hunter. But Benny isn’t interested in having anything to do with his brother, even if he “got to whack some real zoms” (Maberry, 2011, Ch. 1). He thinks Tom is a coward—after all, his first memory is of Tom taking him and running, leaving his mother to die on First Night. She had been wearing a white dress with red sleeves, and he remembered she was screaming (Maberry Ch. 40). He idolizes the other bounty hunters who live in town. They’re so much cooler than Tom, they’ve killed thousands of zombies and they make lots of ration dollars. But after hating every job he tried, Benny finally breaks down and asks Tom for a job. When Tom brings Benny with him to the ruin for the first time, Benny learns that he had it all wrong. Nothing is at all what he thought it was.
Drugs is one of the themes in this story that shows the impact of both the user and their loved ones. There is no doubt that heroin destroys lives and families, but it offers a momentary escape from the characters ' oppressive environment and serves as a coping mechanism to help deal with the human suffering that is all around him. Suffering is seen as a contributing factor of his drug addiction and the suffering is linked to the narrator’s daughter loss of Grace. The story opens with the narrator feeling ice in his veins when he read about Sonny’s arrest for possession of heroin. The two brothers are able to patch things up and knowing that his younger brother has an addiction. He still buys him an alcoholic drink at the end of the story because, he has accepted his brother for who he really is.
I have received your letter, are the children healthy and well? How are you lately? Have you been sick recently? I am fine, well, as right as one is capable of being over in this land. I have thought of you every second of every day, there is not one moment I have forgotten about you. I just wish to be back home again. Last time you said that Henry was feeling slightly ill, I have some medicine stashed away in the bottom cupboard near the grand clock. If he shall start to feel very poorly, you may go there and find him medicine. You will know which one it is once you see it, I do not want Henry to turn out like poor Will did.
..., you feel as if you are in Kristina’s shoes telling her story. Minimalist verses perfectly demonstrate Kristina’s dissociation and muddled despair. (Kirkus Reviews). The author really emphasizes meth as if it’s own character, giving it feelings and power. The emphasision of meth makes you believe that it’s the highly addictive “monster” that makes Kristina’s life spiral out of control and not her.
The day has come. The day I've feared but tried so hard not to. Two men grab me by the arms and lead outside to the blinding sunlight, reluctantly. My tattered shoes scrape along the rocky sand of the camp, everyones watching me now. They all know what's happening and feel sorry for me, except for a smug figure in the distance, obviously Sergeant Hanley. My eyes dart helplessly around the camp, I see the firing squad and a lump swells in my throat. Then I see Tommo, and remember my promise to him.
Predictable enough the morning started off without a hitch, my mother had woken up the house before the sun even knew it had gone to sleep with her insistent wailing over who knows what. What I had not expected, or at least not for a few more weeks till her medication ran out, was her face inches from my sleep crusted eyelids screaming obscenities. If I was not currently in the predicament I found myself in I could have gotten lost in trance and counted the sprinkles of cocaine that powdered her face, just below her nose. Sadly time did not stop nor did my mother, yanking our arm’s she drug my sisters and me out of bed. They rubbed their swollen eyes while looking up at me expectantly, ignoring my mothers usual rant over how she would have fared much better off without scum like us. Meagan and Cheyenne waited patiently for me to assume the usual position. I was the oldest, it seemed only fair that in situations where our mother used us as punching bags that I would go first. But today was different, I could see it in her eyes as she wound her hand back for the opening jab. Today she would not just stop with me, it would not be enough to knock me over and hit me till her hands hurt, it would not be enough to grab Meagan’s hair and yank her around, she did not even find adequate satisfaction in seeing Cheyenne cry out for her to stop. This was the day she kept
Two hours later, Myra and Garland are in bed, enclosed in a pool of sweat. Myra’s face has this invigorated rush look, sort of like junkies getting a fix. Garland has an orange glow, the effects of top grade one hundred percent pure cocaine, Peruvian Marching Powder, as it were. His eyes are bloodshot red, his hair tousled
Being human is given,but keeping our humanity is a choice. Beat, damaged, and suffering the Germans were malevolent, rancorous, and acrimonious. ”Daisies, the wild ones that are found stuck into the cold white funeral wreaths” (Holczer). Death, that's what many children and their parents were facing. Confused and frightened these children not knowing what was going on.
“That’s a pretty hard drink for this early in the day.” And Sarah was left breathless, watching the man as he ordered an almond passion, smiled at her, and sat down, in the corner where she had planned on sitting. A fellow patron touches her shoulder to request that she move from the counter. Sarah cries out in pain and collapses on the floor, spilling the drink upon herself.
I am Katelyn Zdanowicz sister of Becca and daughter of Amy. Austin is not really family, so we are planning on killing him soon. We are going on a trip to the New World. Everybody is packed and ready for the trip to the New World. We don’t know how long it will be, so we brought a lot of supplies to keep us alive such as a giant blanket, medicine, a needle and thread, seeds, food, water, fishing equipment, tools, knives, rubbing alcohol, dishes, and candles. We need to kill Austin on the ship so we don’t waste any supplies on him. We have extra supplies in his suitcase because all he wanted to bring was alcohol. We need board in the morning at 8:00 sharp, so we need to board the ship called the Speedwell soon so we can meet up with the Mayflower for our journey. The Speedwell is going to take us there, but we hear that it is leaking, so I don’t know if we will make it the whole way without going on the Mayflower.
The Creature That Opened My Eyes Sympathy, anger, hate, and empathy, these are just a few of the emotions that came over me while getting to know and trying to understand the creature created by victor frankenstein in Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. For the first time I became completely enthralled in a novel and learned to appreciate literature not only for the great stories they tell but also for the affect it could have on someones life as cliché as that might sound, if that weren’t enough it also gave me a greater appreciation and understanding of the idiom “never judge a book by its cover.” As a pimply faced, insecure, loner, and at most times self absorbed sophomore in high school I was never one to put anytime or focus when it came time
Suddenly, Sara's light step halted and she turned to face me. From her hazel eyes blazed an intensity of exhilaration and courage, which mingled with pride and concern as she surveyed my resolute expression. I watched longingly as Sara unfastened the Nalgene bottle from her side; one sip of water sloshed tantalizingly at the bottom of the bottle, heightening my senses into acute desire. Sweat poured down from my face, biting at my eyes, and after I dabbed at them with my shirt, I saw Sara was presenting the water bottle to me. Both anticipating and squelching my refusing, Sara said simply, "Drink, Stacy. Yo...
Habits of the Creative Minds is a simple textbook with a particular twist. I began reading the book thinking it was going to be a basic textbook, but the author,Richard E. Miller and Ann Jurecic, changed the tone of the book and put it into a metaphor. This metaphor was about the reader in your writing, or for anyone reading should feel like Alice in Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. The reader should be reading, and figuratively fall into the reading, by this the authors means the reader should not want to put that book down. They should be engulfed in the book and read from cover to cover. The attention must be maintained and the best way to do this is by making the writing unique. The authors of this book puts
I woke up sweating and distraught, in tears. My heart was still racing. I frantically recited psalm 23, the Lord’s Prayer. After that, I grabbed the television remote which I had placed under my collection of stuff animals and turned on the television to Cartoon Network. Tom and Jerry was being showed. I reached for my journal which lay next to the remote on my bed, and began to write.